REMEMBER, REMEMBER, THE 5TH OF NOVEMBER? NO THANKS, I'D RATHER FORGET IT - AND WISH EVERYONE ELSE WOULD TOO...

You know you're getting old when the things that enthralled you as a kid no longer hold any magic for you - except perhaps in memory.  Take BONFIRE NIGHT for example.  I don't mind seeing and hearing fireworks when I'm out and about, but I find the noise irritating and intrusive when I'm ensconced in my house trying to relax and unwind.  The actual night is bad enough, but when you have to put up with continual explosions for at least a week before and a week after (sometimes longer), it goes beyond the pale.  I think fireworks should, by law, only be allowed on November 5th between 6 and 7.30 pm.  Anyone setting them off before or after should be heavily fined (or, failing that, given a good kicking).  What's more, they should only go on sale three days before the 5th.

HALLOWE'EN's another one.  This October 31st, I sat in the house with the lights off to deter any kids and their parents coming to the door.  Not that I think they would, but I wasn't prepared to take any chances.  It's not just that I've got no time for kids as a rule (unless they're quiet, well-behaved children of friends), but I didn't want to be subjected to their disappointment if I'd been placed in the position of having to turn them away empty-handed.

What a miserable old git I've turned into, but I just can't help myself.  It's not really fair, considering how much I enjoyed Hallowe'en and Bonfire Night when I was a kid.  I've tried to analyse the reasons for this shift in my attitude to these two events, and here's what I've come up with.

Not being a kid or a parent, I've got no reason to participate in the celebrations in any way, so therefore find them an intrusive nuisance to my routine, to say nothing of my peace and quiet.  I'm also struck by the fact they remind me that my childhood effectively ended in the previous house to this one.  Not that I realised it back then, as the transition process of growing up appears seamless at the time, but, in retrospect, we tend to separate each phase of our lives into segments and view them as links in a chain, as opposed to the single unrolling ball of string it once seemed to be.

It was in my previous house that I last went out on Hallowe'en;  it was in my previous home that I last celebrated Bonfire Night;  and it was in my previous abode that I last crept downstairs with my brother in the early hours of Christmas day to see what Santa had brought us.  My tentative conclusions are therefore that I'm angry and bitter at no longer being a child, in much the same way that the lead actor in a TV show feels when he realises he's gone as far in his role as he can, and that the new young supporting actor is getting much more attention and fan mail, and will soon supplant him as the main star of the show.  I'm sort of half-joking of course, but perhaps there's more truth in my assessment than I realise.

Any thoughts on the matter, Criv-ites?  Let rip in the comments section.

Posted in: Cartoons